


hum of night

by anthiese



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Grinding, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, i lose a year of life for each of these tags, like the vaguest mention of ch18 spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 18:21:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20394100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anthiese/pseuds/anthiese
Summary: Annette and Felix have a date.





	hum of night

**Author's Note:**

> UGH yea im embarrassed but im posting this anyway. theyre so CUTE and are the sun&moon ship and they got the crest tarot symbolism and theyre both pretty so i think they should kiss each other. so catch these 5k words! enjoy!  
(and big thanks to mel @lentranced and bina @tangerinabina_de_archanea for the support uwu!!! love u!!)

The castle is still well awake at this hour. With the capture of the city, it seems like nobody is interested in sleeping anymore, when they could be celebrating, when they could be living. Part of Felix keeps thinking it’s not appropriate nor sensible for the people of the silver capital to be letting their guards down so easily, as if Cornelia had been someone else’s problem. The other can’t help but be proud of Dimitri for taking them all this far – for being someone he can look in the eye again – proud of his father for all that he has done, and proud of himself for being still here, alive and in one piece even after telling Annette he’d wait for her outside the Great Hall after supper. 

He isn’t really sure of how _obvious_ it may appear, to see him standing there so late at night, and then to see them leaving together, but it’s not the time to worry when this has been happening since almost as soon as they retook the castle. Not the first few days, of course, when he’s had his wounds to lick, but as soon as he felt well enough to show his face to the council table, Annette started to set up these dates, late enough that their friends wouldn’t notice, but early enough that they’d be able to blend in with the crowd. 

It was innocent, very often, like when she dragged him to a nice restaurant where they ended up not eating anything because they’d already had supper, or when he took her along to chase cats around the castle grounds, or when they snuck in to the opening night of the new Fhirdiad opera company together. 

Other times it was… well, not as innocent, but they made good memories in some places that carried bad ones – the council chamber that used to be Cornelia’s, the old king’s solar, the knights’ hall (_oh, the knights’ hall_) – so he can suppose it evens out. 

It’s been going on for a while before the capital, too. Always safely, always enthusiastically, but the first was… not the way he’d expected it to be, one night on the way to Myrddin, huddled in the same furs, with Annette close to tears, fully convinced the Prince would get them all killed in that battle. 

But life is unpredictable, and things happen when you’re lying next to someone cute complaining that she’s going to die without having kissed anyone, even if you’re at war, even if you’re on the ground. Sometimes, especially because you’re on the ground. 

Now they’re still at war, but at least nobody needs to sleep in the dirt. Fhirdiad is still in the middle of its reconstruction, but it’s in a better state than the monastery is, and unlike the couple times they needed to set up camp, now everybody has rooms, everybody can take a bath, which makes everything much easier, much better. 

He’s fresh out of there when they meet outside the Great Hall this time, and Annette seems to be as well, her hair puffing out in every direction, poorly restrained by a silky ribbon. 

“Old Lambert’s solar,” she orders, more than proposing. 

“Perfect.” Felix replies, and Annette smiles bright, and after not being alone with her for almost a week he realizes he missed that a bit. He doesn’t really know how to tell her she’s pretty, so he keeps walking. 

They go through the halls side by side, passing by handfuls of people still coming and leaving from all directions, a few in the same as theirs, to the heart of the castle. Giggling maids, nobles in full regalia, busy librarians. Alive, mainly happy: it’s a welcome sight. 

Once they walk past the crossway to the other towers, the crowd becomes sparser, knights and nobles and maids disappearing down the inner halls one by one, until the only people in the corridor are the two of them, and someone rushing out of the archives, from the door in front of the access to the old tower. 

They run past them, their stack of books bumping against Annette’s shoulder, and Felix extends his hand to grab hers – just for a second, just to not get separated – before dropping back to his side. She gives him a glace, that smile still on her face, and marches on. His head spins a bit, so he looks away, behind them. 

That person with the books keeps running to the other end of the hall, where they’re welcomed by someone’s arms around them. Felix makes in time to see them disappear down the servants’ quarters with a string of giggles, holding each other’s hands tight. He wonders if the two of them look like that, too, to someone else’s eye. 

But that doesn’t matter, now that they’re alone. Annette has opened the wooden portal and started climbing the tower, skipping a couple steps at a time, so he follows. 

By the time Felix catches up, the door is open and Annette is already inside, pulling the curtains open, letting the dim moonlight in. The old solar is large, decorated with elegant couches, chairs, and playing tables, all in a nearly perfect state, taken care of with the attention the people of Faerghus could only reserve for the dead. 

The tower used to host King Lambert’s chambers, and though Dimitri decided not to move in there even after being crowned, he did order to keep all of the rooms clean. Nobody should be around at this hour, for cleaning or otherwise, but Felix still locks the door behind him. 

“Light the fireplace, please?” Annette asks. Now she’s busy with a couple of candles, fire between her fingers. 

He nods, striding to the other end of the room and kneeling down. There’s fresh firewood, there always is. He unclasps his cape, covers his hands with its lining before setting the wood in the middle of the hearth. Annette’s light footsteps echo through the room as he throws away the cape, and starts casting the spell. 

She slides down next to him on the carpet, her shoulder pressed tight against his. He’s still muttering the incantation when her hands reach from behind, for the clasps of his tunic. Fast, nimble as she is, Annette’s hands are already slipping against his skin when he’s barely lit a flame. It takes more willpower than he’d like to admit to resist dropping the spell and kissing her, but Felix resists, and he feels strong, and he feels weak. 

The fire takes off with a cracking noise, and the room immediately feels warmer. He turns his eyes back to Annette, leaning into her touch, her pretty hands always stained with ink and scarred by magic. 

Now that she has his full attention, her movements are slower, deliberate. Having opened his tunic all the way down to his navel, she just lets her fingers wander the skin beneath the fabric, exploring as if they hadn’t been there before, curiously, teasingly. 

He tenses up, her hands moving low, and Annette giggles. Her breath on his neck is scalding. Too much, too much. 

Felix turns around to face her, and she smiles, with that little twinkle in her eye. She watches as he takes off the tunic, dropping it near the fire, a bit too close, and she watches as his face inches toward hers, and she closes her eyes a second before he does, when he brings his lips to hers. 

It starts slow, as usual, but then her mouth opens while she reaches for his naked shoulders, and the heat builds up fast, and soon they’re gripping at each other’s clothes, hair, skin, whatever is closer, and little moans escape from the small gaps where their lips don’t touch. 

When they part for air Annette is breathing heavily, her chest rising against his, and her hand in between them. She must feel his heart beating fast beneath her fingers. 

Felix reaches for her tunic, starts undoing the buttons. Her hands join his, trying to help, but though eager, they’re shaking, and they tangle with his. 

“Let me,” he says. His voice is shaking, too. But he’s fast, and soon the tunic is open, and then on the floor. Her undershirt is next, and as he undoes the second set of buttons, Felix finds himself vaguely frustrated at her for needing to wear so many layers. Of course, her comfort is the most important thing, but he can’t help the voice deep inside that screams, begs to touch her skin. 

And then the shirt drops down her shoulders. Pale, freckled, bare, for his eyes only, and seeing her like this stirs something, it always does. 

Annette throws away her brassiere, and she brings his hands up to her breasts before he can even take a good look at all of her. She’s so warm, but his hands feel scalding. 

The fire, it’s the fire. Of course it’s the fire, he’s too close. 

He lifts her by the hips, light as she is, so she’s sitting up with the fireplace behind her, and drags his hands down her skin: fingers ghost along her back and down her hips and all the way back up – then they find their way back to her breasts, touching just a bit harder than before, and Annette sighs. 

“Felix,” she whispers. 

He looks up, just enough to see her mouth, but can’t let himself look in her eyes. He forces his gaze back down, before she distracts him, before she makes him forget how to move. 

The grip on her is a bit looser now, as his thumbs begin tracing along her nipples, and she sighs again, and drags his body closer, between her legs. It feels like she’s trembling. Is she overwhelmed? Felix moves his thumbs away, palms now barely touching her breasts. 

“You seem more excited than usual, today,” he tells her. Her shoulders flush. 

“Always making fun of me, are you!” She gasps, but there’s a smile in her voice. “It’s just been a while. For you, too.” 

Annette’s weight shifts, her hand snaking between their bodies, down to his stomach and to the front of his trousers. It’s already starting to get uncomfortable. Especially on the ground. 

“It has.” Felix says. 

And he has to force himself to separate from her, to stand up and reach for the armchair in front of the playing table, and push it right in front of the fireplace. 

“You first.” 

She doesn’t let him repeat it twice, and immediately hops from the ground to the soft cushions. He walks back to her slowly, taking time to admire her. The sensitive skin red and glowing in front of the fire, her hair aflame, those bright blue eyes... the way she can only stay still for a second, before reaching to untie her boots. 

“Are you going to stand there and watch?” She laughs, kicking them off. 

Felix feels the blood rush to his face, but Annette isn’t looking. He can’t tell her that he’d like to, can he? 

“You're just impatient.” He says instead. 

“I am!” 

Her hands are to the buttons of her trousers now, and Felix decides that’s enough. He leans down on the armchair, sliding a knee between Annette’s, and taking her hands in his. She looks up, meeting his eyes with a sly little smile, as if expecting him to kiss her. 

And it takes some restraint not to do that, but instead Felix dips down, kisses her throat, and he keeps kissing down, and down, to her collarbone and the middle of her chest, before reaching to kiss one of her breasts, and untangling a hand from hers to fondle the other. He drags his teeth along her nipple, and Annette is already melting into a mess of mewling sounds, burying her free hand in his hair, while the other threatens to crush his own. 

She keeps twitching and sighing under his tongue and the slightest twirl of his fingers on her nipple, and now Felix really sees that it’s been too long. Not that these are times where two people can forget their troubles and lay together as they please, but he’s never seen her quite as needy. He can’t help but think it as a failure on his part, something he should make up to her. 

He slides his knee further between her legs, for better balance, and Annette seems to notice, enthusiastically sliding her hips down to meet him. 

Then she’s grinding fast against his thigh and holding his head tight against her chest and her breaths start getting shallower and – Felix takes his mouth off of her. 

“Ann- Ann, slow down. You’re going to burn yourself out.” 

She looks at him wide eyed, visibly flustered, and she sits up straight again. 

“Sorry, sorry, I’m a bit overexcited today, am I? I’ll- I’ll just sit nice and pretty now, and let you do the work.” 

“Thank you.” 

Work... It looks like she’s done half of it already, seeing how worked up she is. He has to even this. 

He leans forward, kisses her deeply, and Annette’s hands reach up to touch his face. They separate for air, and then he kisses her again, fast and chaste, before grabbing her hips and climbing down the armchair, dragging her lower body forward. 

While he gets on his knees, her hands reach for the buttons of her trousers again, and this time she’s done before Felix can do anything about it, except for helping her out of them. 

“Goodness.” Annette gasps with relief. “How are you still keeping yours on, I can’t say.” 

“I did say you first.” He says, reaching for the hem of her panties. “But we can change if that’s what you want.” 

Annette laughs, and he lifts her hips to slide down that last piece of clothing. “It’s just you’re very handsome! Look at those arms of yours... And I feel a bit naked like this, is all.” 

“You are naked.” And she’s wet, by all that is true and holy, so wet that it’s getting difficult for Felix to keep a straight face. 

“And you aren’t.” She shoots back. “You should remedy to that, is what I’m saying.”

His mind blanks. “Sorry.” He answers. 

“At least I can see your face from here. Did I tell you that you have a pretty face?” Annette presses on when he spreads her legs. 

She might have, but Felix doesn’t particularly remember. He wonders how she manages to chat so much when he can’t focus on anything that’s not her thighs under his hands. 

“...Felix? Hey.” Annette calls, putting a hand on his head, her voice low. “Do... do compliments make you uncomfortable? You can tell me, you know. You can tell me anything.” 

Felix halts his hand, on the crook of her inner thigh. She’s always so sweet, always so caring... and hearing her talk is nice, but he doesn’t have an answer to any of that, he just has questions, so he looks up to her. 

“Annette?” 

“Yeah?” 

“How do you even manage to talk so much?” 

She opens her mouth, lifting the hand from his head and bringing it back up, then the question must reach her, and she closes it again, her face turning ever redder than before. 

“I’m not complaining, I’m curious.” Felix explains, resting his cheek on her knee. Annette looks in a couple directions, then back to him, as if waiting for him to laugh, but he doesn’t. 

“Well,” she starts, hips shifting, “you see, I think, I like it when you tell me things, but when you’re all focused I wanna-” 

How cute she is, a girl who deserves the world. He pushes a finger inside her. 

“-fill th– _aaaah_. Aah.” 

“Yes?” 

She’s just humming now, pushing her hips against him. 

“Go on, Annette.” He encourages her, hand completely still. 

“What- you go on.” 

“I wasn’t _talking_.” 

Now she pouts, and oh, does it hurt to see. Her hand reaches the back of his head again, and for a second he wonders if she’s going to try and make it a strength contest, but she doesn’t, instead tugging at the ribbon that’s keeping his hair up. 

“You’re lucky I don’t have the patience to tie you up and make you regret being so mean.” 

She brings her hand back up, smile back on her lips, ribbon held between her fingers, and Felix’s hair falls over his face, his shoulders, her knee. 

“How exactly is that lucky?” 

Annette blinks exactly once, then she starts laughing loud, with all her body, and her hips slide further down his hand. A moan escapes her lips, and she freezes, covering her mouth with both hands. 

Oh, she must’ve misunderstood again. She always seems to think he’s making fun of her, even after all this time, and that can’t stand. Felix clears his throat. 

“I... don’t mind if you keep talking, you know I always love hearing your voice.” 

Then there’s real silence. Annette has this surprised expression on her face, as if he’d said something strange, and she’s messy, and flushed, and gorgeous, and smiling, and she opens her mouth, but no words come out. For a moment Felix just stares back, before the heat of the fireplace behind him starts becoming too much, and he feels his cheeks burning. He looks away, and uses his free hand to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. 

“…where did we leave off?” 

“A-ah, we... fill the silence, is what I was saying. And you were, uhm, doing some good work, go on.” 

“If you insist.” 

It’s easy enough to slip a second finger, and it’s enough to make her moan again. When he hooks them and starts moving, trying to hit the right spot, even Annette’s cheerful expression changes, her brow knit together, and she’s lovely even when focused like this. 

Then his thumb brushes up, to the apex of her lips, and he touches and touches blindly until he finds her clit, and in that moment Annette’s eyes meet his, before squeezing shut. 

He rubs gently, in small circles, but soon she’s shaking again, and his fingers inside her are drenched, and her face looks bright red as she murmurs something under her breath, and whether it’s a curse, a prayer, or his name, Felix can’t tell. 

“Please,” he catches over and over as he pushes deeper and faster inside of her, and “go on” and something else about love, everything so slurred that he can tell she’s getting close just by the way her voice cracks. His free hand reaches to grab her hip, and pulls her even closer to the edge of the seat, to him. Then he moves his thumb away, his tongue immediately taking its place. 

Annette gasps, and her hand reaches down to squeeze the one on her hip, while the other buries itself in his hair again, pulling it back from his face, chivalrous as she always is. 

“Felix, please,” she says, this time loud and clear. He sucks hard on her clit in response, and Annette almost screams, pressing his head deeper between her legs. 

She’s so wet and yielding against his fingers that he manages to slip a third in without the slightest bit of resistance, and just in a few more pushes and twists and licks her legs are thrown around his neck, her hips bucking against his mouth, and her walls clamping around his fingers – and she calls out for him so softly that it sends a shiver down his spine. 

He keeps rubbing inside her slowly, but deep, as she rides out her climax, and his lips stay on her clit, kissing and kissing as her breathing evens out again. 

“…water,” is the first clear word that comes out of her mouth, and Felix takes his hands off of her to stand up, and pour her a glass from the pitcher on the playing table. 

He sits back down on the carpet as Annette drinks, and now keeping clothes on is starting to get painful, especially when she slings one leg over the armrest, leaving everything in perfect view. Interesting image aside, it’s strange how much she lets her guard down around him. Flattering, even. 

“Thank you.” Annette says, setting down the glass, but he knows she’s not referring to the water. “Are you going to come here or do you want more time to stew over?” 

Silly, she is, thinking they could both fit in there while keeping things safe. Silly, or maybe bold enough to be considering that. 

“_You_ come down here,” Felix replies, gesturing to the armchair, “that’s an indecent accommodation you suggest, Baroness Dominique.” 

Annette huffs, but she sits up straight again. “As if you’re any better. You’re on your knees, your Grace, mighty Duke.” 

Felix doesn’t like that word, because it’s his when it shouldn’t be, but there’s something... candid, unburdened, about the way she says it, and he can let it pass. 

“Only for you.” He answers. He pats the carpet beside him. “Join me now?” 

Annette nods, bright smile on her face. She hops out of the chair as if infused with new energy, and she drops down beside Felix to kiss his cheek so innocently as her hand reaches down for the bulge in his pants. 

“Sorry for making you wait.” She whispers into his ear, low, earnest, and she kisses his neck. Felix has to bite his tongue. 

Annette’s never really one to waste time, and sooner than he knows she’s taken off his belt, scabbard, dagger, a number of throwing knives, and she’s unbuttoning his pants with a satisfied look on her face. Felix pushes the weapons away, and she moves back just enough to finish the job, pulling the rest of his clothing down in one sharp move. 

The warm air of the room brings no comfort, but immediately Annette is pressing her body to him again, a leg thrown between his, her hand on his shaft, slowly stroking, and Felix kisses her to block out a very undignified moan. 

It doesn’t particularly work, and Annette giggles against his mouth, her free hand combing through his hair. The other grasps him hard, and he feels himself shudder. 

“You’re cute.” She says when they break away, the dreamy look of the afterglow still in her eyes. “You’re so cute I could stay like this all day.” 

“Maybe another day.” Felix replies, pulling her in for another kiss. She’s warm like sunlight, her touch scorching his skin, and she’s so desperately soft under his fingers, until her hand snakes down between them to rest in the middle of his chest, and she pushes him down to the floor. 

Now Annette hovers over his hips, straddling him, her fingers still wrapped around his cock. Her other hand stays on his chest, her eyes lost as she glides over some old, ugly scar. Then she clears her throat. 

“Do, do you want to go all the way?” 

Silly. And bold. 

“Can’t,” he reminds her, “can’t get you in trouble, can’t let you get me in trouble.” 

Annette pouts. “How would _I_ get you in trouble?” 

Her fingers move a little while she speaks – hellishly little – and Felix has to throw a hand over his eyes to try and focus. 

“Whatever you were saying about virtue and the church. If we did that, then your future husband would challenge me to a duel, and I’d have to kill him.” 

“Oh!” She seems to remember, and to give up the idea. 

“And you don’t think you could lose?” She laughs instead, sitting back down on his thighs. 

“Absolutely not.” 

“Thank goodness, because I’d be heartbroken.” 

With that, she presses his length against his stomach, and slides her hips forward to straddle it, and she’s light like a bird but the pressure is just perfect, and Felix lets his eyes flutter closed. Then the weight of Annette’s body shifts, and she’s leaning down to kiss him, her palm cupping his cheek, her lips on his gentle at first, then hungry, fiery, and Felix’s hands fly to her sides, holding her tight. 

It’s all the encouragement Annette needs. She starts moving, her hips slowly rolling against his, dripping lips pressing down on his shaft, and he moans into her mouth. Annette giggles, lifting herself up a bit. A lock of hair falls from her ribbon in front of her eyes as she keeps her rhythm steady, and Felix tucks it back behind her ear. 

Her face is flushed again, and she must be still sensitive from earlier, but she looks down to him with this delighted smile, like his face is the strangest and most interesting thing she’s ever seen. If she could see herself, her body so delicate and strong over his, her eyes bright and burning in the light of the candles, the fire, the stars and moon. 

“Ann,” Felix calls, lifting his hips to meet her movements, and the friction must hit her right spots as it does his, because she gasps, and has to slap a hand to the floor next to his head to keep her balance. 

Then Annette keeps moving, bright red curls bouncing on her freckled shoulders, and Felix forgets what he was going to say next. There’s only her, her smile, her hips grinding down on his, and her eyes, always her eyes. He forgets everything else but the feeling of her, until Annette rocks her lips right over his head and starts murmuring like before, prayers or curses or the word love or his name – and Felix realizes she’s close again, and he is too. 

“Ann.” He says one more time, in a whisper. 

She shivers, her movements now slower, clumsier, her words reduced to a sweet humming. Felix puts a hand on the small of her back and moves to sit up, swiftly hoisting Annette up with him, careful to keep her hips on his. It gets a bit easier to move in this position, with Annette holding onto his shoulders and meeting his pushes, grinding down against his length. 

She kisses him over and over, quick and eager and lovely, running her fingers through his hair, and Felix pulls her even closer, until he can feel her chest against his, soft and small and burning like every part of her. Annette breaks away to breathe, but she holds him tight, while he nibbles at the skin of her neck and she sighs and she hums, and the heat pooling in the pit of his stomach starts to be unbearable, creeping up his body. 

It doesn’t take much more after that. Her hips roll again, hard, relentless, and the room starts to spin, until he finally shudders and moans into Annette’s neck, coming between their bodies, pressed tight together. She keeps grinding down, and even though he’s too spent to keep pace with her, Felix reaches to cup her breasts, trace her nipples, and soon Annette is tensing up again, pressing her forehead against his and shaking and whimpering with a lovely smile on her face. 

“Felix,” she calls, the moment she comes down. 

He takes a second more to catch his breath, and tucks another red curl behind her ear, before pulling away.

“Sorry.” He replies, eyes darting between her eyes and the mess over her stomach. 

Annette huffs, leaning forward to kiss him, and the weight is so sudden that he loses balance, and they’re on the floor again with a thud. She rolls off his body, landing right in front of the fireplace, and instinctively he follows, turning to his side. She’s humming a little tune, while trying to catch her breath. All sweaty, red as a beet, and she’s still the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. 

“We’re gross.” He says instead. 

Annette looks down to the cum on her stomach and between her thighs, and for a moment Felix feels like burying himself. Then she rolls to face him, smile in her eyes. He has to wonder what she’s seeing. 

“We’re gross,” she repeats, “and you look happy. Did I already tell you that you’re cute?” 

“Yes.” 

Annette giggles, a hand reaching to brush some hair out of his face. 

“...but thank you.” Felix adds, before taking her face in his hands and kissing her again. 

Annette shifts closer, heat still radiating from her skin. How weak she makes him, that he almost considers falling asleep like that, in her arms. But he fights it. He tears himself away, and Annette groans with disappointment as he sits up to grab the pitcher and a couple handkerchiefs off the table, but when he starts cleaning her, she lets him, staying still without complaints. 

“Felix,” she calls once he’s done, “thank you.” 

“It’s not like I could’ve let you walk all the way to the baths like that.” 

She sits up, taking another handkerchief and dipping it in the water. “You could have,” she says, and Felix freezes as she moves closer and returns the favor, “you’re just nice, aren’t you? And grumpy.” 

“I’m guessing that’s a compliment?” 

“Yup.” 

With that, Annette stands up to put away the pitcher and the handkerchiefs, and there’s a spring in her step and that smile on her face, and the second she lays back down next to him, naked and pretty and glowing in front of the fire, Felix can’t help but lean down and embrace her. He sees Annette smile, before she throws her arms around him and pecks his lips, and for once he feels like being selfish. 

“Annette?” He calls. 

Her eyes are unfocused somewhere on his chest, glowing fingertips dancing on old scars. “Felix?” 

“Let’s stay like this tonight.” 

Annette looks up to him, eyes wide as he reaches for his cape and pulls it over the two of them, but she smiles, and her answer is another kiss, soft and burning against his lips. Felix closes his eyes, and for a night there’s nothing in the world outside that room, nothing but Annette, the fire, and the moon watching over them.

**Author's Note:**

> title is from sunlight by hozier but actually i kept thinking abt writing this while listening to bones by the killers on loop, both great songs btw. also now that i finally got this one off my mind i can go back writing the other stuff that i shamelessly left on hold while i finished almost 2 routes. bear with me everyone 🐻🧡


End file.
